Stuck in Two Worlds
by IMTheresa
Summary: John wants to be a good father, but he needs to be a good hunter for 11-year old Sam's sake. And now his struggle includes new information about Mary.
1. Chapter 1

**Stuck in Two Worlds**

**Chapter 1**

Disclaimer: I don't own them; I just like to take them out and play with them once in a while.

A/N: I know I say this a lot when I post a new story, but I'm not sure about this one. It started and ended pretty much where I wanted it to. The middle is even more or less what I envisioned. But it seems kind of like an episode of _Seinfeld_ where, in the end, nothing really happened. And yet, a lot _did_ happen.

I'll let you be the judge, so review your hearts out. It's three chapters and all are finished. More or less, anyway. I'm still tweaking a conversation in the third chapter, but there's nothing unusual about that.

For everyone who has asked about a Dean/Kristine reunion, it's coming. I need some more information from the show, so I can keep my little AU world within canon.

Now without further ado…..

oooOOOooo

Every father should remember that one day his son will follow his example instead of his advice  
Unknown

One night a father overheard his son pray: Dear God, Make me the kind of man my Daddy is. Later that night, the Father prayed, Dear God, Make me the kind of man my son wants me to be Unknown

oooOOOooo

"I'm not sure I want to do this."

"What? Since when do you turn down jobs?"

"I don't, but –"

"It's probably nothing complicated. It's even fairly close by."

"Yeah, I know. It's not that."

Jim Murphy looked at his friend curiously. Ever since he'd met John Winchester nearly ten years before, the man had always been willing to take on whatever supernatural hunt he came across. His primary goal was finding whatever had killed his wife, but he wanted to learn as much as he could and get rid of as much evil as possible along the way. In addition to being eager, Jim had found him to be a quick learner and willing to be as brutal as he needed to be. The hesitation Jim now saw was something he'd not seen before

They were sitting in the living room of the house provided to Jim by the church where he officiated. It wasn't a lavish home, but it was more than enough for a man who lived alone with the occasional guests.

"What is it then?" the pastor asked gently.

"I think I need to be with the boys for a while."

"What's going on?"

John stood up and took a few long steps to the picture window. He faced outside, but the sun had set and Jim didn't think he could actually see anything in the darkness beyond the glass.

Jim knew that John struggled with parenting his two young sons while hunting at the same time. Before they were school age, John could go anywhere the hunt took him. Even after Dean was old enough for first grade, the family still moved around quite a bit, until John saw how difficult it was for his older son. Dean had fallen behind almost from the beginning and John knew that if he couldn't find and destroy his wife's killer soon that he would have to depend on Dean to help protect Sammy. He wouldn't be able to learn what he'd need to know with a subpar education.

It was difficult, but John began to choose homes central to supernatural activity so that he could keep the family in one place during the school year while still going out on hunts. There were a few people John could trust to stay with his boys, but despite Jim's protests, he preferred to leave them alone when he couldn't be with them. Jim never quite understood his friend's reasoning, but knew better than to interfere too deeply in family matters. John had a temper and the pastor didn't want to risk him taking the boys away completely and becoming a rogue hunter.

It wasn't as if there was any real organization to the hunter community, but there was still cohesiveness and unspoken rules. John was dangerous and it was made worse over fear for his younger son's destiny. Jim wanted to make sure the threat was only to the evil entities and not to the other hunters, so he chose not to alienate John.

"John?" Jim prompted quietly after several moments of silence.

He turned from the window, his expression sad. "Ever since Sammy found out the truth, he's been angry. It's getting worse and lately, he only listens to Dean. If I had to choose, I'd rather him be safe above everything else, but this….it's…."

John shook his head and turned back to the window.

Jim sighed to himself. John had no one to blame but himself for his younger son's lack of faith in him. The boy had adored his father, as any child would, but lost all belief in the man when he found out that John had been lying to him his entire life. Of course John had done it to protect Sam, but he had always been a very curious boy and smarter than he had any right to be. It had never occurred to John that he, at only nine years old, would defy orders and go out on his own to look for the answer to his questions.

Dean had lied to him, too, but where it had caused seemingly irreparable harm to Sam's relationship with his father, it was only a blip between the brothers. A major factor in the deterioration of his connection to Sam was John's refusal to deal with the situation. Dean, on the other hand, knew his brother well enough to realize he couldn't just bark an order and make things better. He had gone out of his way to mend fences.

"John, if you think you need to spend more time with the boys, then by all means, you should. This is just something I heard about; it's not a huge job. But….well, it's been two years since Sam found out about hunting and what happened to his mother. What, exactly, is it you expect to do now?"

"I don't know," John admitted as he came back to the couch. He laughed bitterly. "I can handle all kinds of evil crap, but I don't know what to do about one eleven year old boy."

"Well," Jim sat back in his favorite leather chair and crossed his legs. "You could try being his father."

"You know I love him, right? I mean, in spite of….he's my son and I love him."

"Of course I know that. And Sam knows it, too. He might have lost sight of it, but he knows. Are you expecting to rebuild the relationship or just get him back in line? Those are vastly different things and they will have different outcomes."

John took a thoughtful sip of beer.

Jim persisted. "If you just want him back in line, you may as well just let Dean handle him."

--

Sam Winchester sat in a chair on the back porch of Jim's house, a book propped up on his legs as they rested on the bench in front of him. He was taking advantage of the unusually warm Minnesota afternoon, but Dean knew he'd do practically anything to avoid being near their father. He watched his brother through the sliding glass door for a moment before going outside. He intentionally pushed Sam's legs off of the bench before sitting down.

"Hey!" Sam protested.

Dean grinned.

Sam shot him a dirty look as he resettled in the chair. "What'd ya do that for?"

"No reason," Dean shrugged.

"Jerk," Sam muttered. He turned back to his book, but Dean knew he wasn't reading. A moment later Sam slipped a bookmark between the pages and set it aside. "Where's Dad?"

"Still in the living room with Jim."

"He going on a job?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know."

"Maybe he'll leave us here," Sam said hopefully.

"Maybe. If he goes anywhere."

"What else would they be talking about?"

Dean heard the bitterness in his brother's voice. Dean didn't like their situation any better than Sam, but he understood it. What their dad did was important and it helped people. One day he'd find the thing that took their mom away and he'd destroy it. Then, maybe things would be better.

"When are you gonna cut him a break?"

Sam glared at his brother for a moment, then looked away.

"Come on, Sammy. It is what is it, okay? We can't change it. You think it's all fun and games for Dad? It's not. And you don't make it any easier on him."

"He lied to me, Dean."

"For your own good. I lied to you, too, remember?"

Sam shook his head. "That's different. You at least apologized. And you talked to me about it. Dad never did."

"He's the adult."

"Whatever."

"Don't whatever me, Sammy," Dean said with no anger in his voice. "Just…cut Dad some slack, okay?"

"He orders us around like we're in the military. And the training…."

"What's wrong with the training? It's important."

"We never get to go on these hunts. Why train?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "We're training to be ready to go. And to protect ourselves when he's gone."

"Which is all the time."

"Damnit, Sammy!" Dean stood up. "He probably just doesn't want to be around you!"

He saw the pain in his brother's eyes and immediately wished he could take back his words. It wasn't like he'd meant them and he knew their dad would be pissed if he'd heard what Dean had said.

"Sammy –"

"Leave me alone!" Sam jumped up and stormed into the house.

Dean ran after Sam, but stopped at the foot of the stairs when he heard his father call his name.

"What's going on?" John asked as Dean walked toward the living room.

Dean glanced at the stairs when a door slammed on the second floor. "I said something mean that I shouldn't have said. I was just going after him to apologize."

"You don't think you should give him a few minutes to calm down?"

"Maybe you're right." He walked completely into the room and sat next to his father. "You guys talking about a job?"

John glanced at Jim. "Yeah, but I don't think I'm going to bite on this one."

"Really?" Dean was surprised. "Why?"

"I think I'll start dinner," Jim said and quickly left the room.

"What's going on, Dad?" Dean asked.

"Don't look so worried," John smiled at him. "I was just thinking maybe we'd stick around here for a while; see if I can do anything to change your brother's attitude."

Dean snorted. "Good luck with that."

"Oh? You think it's hopeless?" John asked.

Dean looked at him, surprised his dad had taken his comment seriously. "I don't know. It's just….he's been pretty pissed off lately."

"At me," John said pointedly. "I know that."

"You know how he is," Dean said looking at his father sideways. "He wants to know things."

"I tell you what it's safe for you to hear."

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir, I know."

Dean never openly questioned his father's actions and always did what was expected of him. He did what he could to keep Sam in line, but the older his brother got, the harder that was. Sam had been deeply disappointed two years before when he found out what their dad really did when he left them alone. On top of that, it was the first time their father had missed a holiday. Dean had done what he could to make it a Christmas for Sam, but it was something the younger boy had not gotten over. Their father seemed to take Sam's disappointment use that as permission to keep letting him down.

"I should go talk to Sammy," Dean said.

"All right."

Dean paused just before he left the room. "Dad? Are we really going to stay here for a while?"

John nodded. "Yeah."

Dean smiled and headed upstairs.

--

"Leave me alone, Dean," Sam grumbled as his brother pushed open the door. He rolled over onto his stomach, his head turned toward the wall.

"Look, uh, I'm sorry about what I said. You know I didn't mean it."

Sam didn't answer. He knew Dean didn't mean it, but he couldn't help but wonder if it might not be true just the same. He heard the squeak of Dean's bed as his brother sat down. Dean was quiet for several moments.

"Come on, Sammy," he said, his voice sounding sad. "I shouldn't have said that."

"What if it's true?" Sam asked, afraid of the answer.

"What?"

"What if it's my fault Dad stays away so much?"

"Sam, that's crazy. You know what he's out there doing. He's getting rid of all kinds of evil sons of bitches. He's helping people, Sammy."

"We're people, too," Sam said, struggling against the quiver of his bottom lip.

"Aw, Sammy."

Sam scooted closer to the wall when he felt Dean sit down on his bed. He had started to cry and that was making him angry all over again. He wasn't mad at Dean or their dad, though. He was mad at himself.

"Hey, you got me, right?"

"I know," Sam whispered.

"Dad…he cares, Sammy, he does. You know that."

"Yeah."

Sam did know that. Their dad was gone a lot and he barked orders when he was home, but every now and then, Sam would catch something in his eyes. It was something he used to see more often when he was younger and it always made him feel warm and safe. He saw it in Dean's eyes a lot.

"Sammy," Dean put a hand on his brother's back. "There's no way Dad leaves because of you, but if that's what your afraid of….dude, why are you such a bitch to him sometimes?"

Sam sighed and turned over, wiping his face and hoping Dean wouldn't see the tears.

"I just want to know things and I hate his secrets."

"He tells us what he thinks it's safe for us to know."

"That's what he says."

"Yeah? And?"

Sam looked at his brother. They'd had this conversation a million times before and Dean never understood. He had faith in their father; a belief that the man could do no wrong. Dean did everything he could to make things easier for him and to make him happy. The more their dad treated them like soldiers, the more Dean seemed to enjoy it. Sam didn't want to be that way. He wanted to know why he was doing something; he wanted it to make sense. Their dad just wanted them to follow him blindly and that was quickly becoming more than Sam could handle.

"It's not good enough."

"You think Dad is so different than other parents?"

"I don't know." Sam almost looked away as Dean seemed to study his face.

"Well, whether he is or isn't," Dean finally said. "He's all we've got. Other parents don't have to worry so much about things that go bump in the night. Ghosts and shit may be real, but most people never have to deal with them. Dad knows what's out there, man. He knows what might follow him home. He just wants us to know how to defend ourselves in case it does. He does the best he can, Sammy."

Before Sam could react, Dean stood up. He walked to the doorway and paused. "Just think about it, okay?"

Sam nodded and when Dean turned away, he called out for him. Dean turned back around.

"Thanks," Sam said simply.

Dean smiled at him and walked away.

Sam waited until he heard his brother on the stairs before he sat up. No matter what else happened, Sam knew that Dean would always be in his corner. He expected as much from Sam as their dad did, but Dean would at least talk to him.

He sometimes wondered what went on when Dean was alone with their dad. Sam knew Dean had a better relationship with the man than he did, but he also knew it wasn't all hugs and kisses. Dean was older and bigger, although Sam was already catching up to him, and he trained alone with their dad. Sometimes he got hurt and Sam couldn't help but wonder….

He slipped off of his bed, refusing to let his thoughts continue in that direction. Dad would never hurt either one of them on purpose. No matter how mad Sam got at him, he refused to believe anything different. Most of the time, anyway.

Sam washed his face in the bathroom, then went downstairs. His dad and brother were in the kitchen with Jim and Sam paused before joining them. He didn't hear what it was, but something Jim said made his dad and brother laugh. He liked that sound and wished he could hear it more often. He remembered what Dean had said about cutting their dad some slack and decided that at least for tonight, he'd do just that.

He hesitated just inside the kitchen. It looked so normal. Jim was getting burgers ready to grill, Dean was pulling stuff out of the refrigerator and their dad stood in a corner with a smile on his face. He caught Sam's eye and his smile broadened. Sam nodded and walked over to him. Without a word, Dad slipped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently. Sam moved even closer and momentarily rested his head against his father.

A moment later everyone went outside to the porch. Under Jim's watchful eye, Dean put the burgers onto the grill. Sam was surprised when Dad produced a baseball and a couple of gloves.

"What do ya say, Sammy?"

Sam eagerly reached for one of the gloves and followed his dad into the yard. Maybe things could be okay, after all.

--

John usually moved the boys as soon as the school year was over. They'd visit with Jim for a few days, then the rest of the summer would be spent going from place to place and job to job. Sam and Dean were never allowed on the hunts, but John encouraged them to do research. It was an important part of the job and his sons needed to be able to do it.

He planned to bring them in. Dean was ready, but Sam was still too young. Besides, John needed Dean to take care of Sam and he couldn't do that if he was off on a job. Maybe he could take Dean on a simple haunting and leave Sam with Jim. It would be good for Dean, but wouldn't do anything for John's relationship with Sam.

"You're up late," Jim noted when he joined John in the living room.

"I could say the same thing," John said. "I thought you went to bed hours ago."

Jim nodded. "The boys were talking. I guess it woke me up."

"Why are they awake?" John asked.

"I don't know. I didn't go into their room," Jim glanced at the end table. There were four empty beer bottles on it. "You've only had four?"

John didn't answer, but took another swallow from the bottle in his hand.

"John –"

"You're not going to preach at me, are you?"

Jim glared at his friend for a moment, then sighed. "No. But I am going to point out that today was a good day. I saw you with Sammy. More importantly, I saw Sammy with you. It was a good day."

"It was," John agreed. "But there have been a lot of bad days. And not just with Sammy. The more I learn, the more I see…."

"You don't have to do this, John."

John smiled sadly. "He's my son. I can't leave this to anyone else."

"So you keep saying. But today," Jim leaned forward. "Was a good day."

John looked at the bottle in his hand. After a few moments, he stood up and gathered the empty ones from the table. He paused on his way to the kitchen. "You're right. Today was a good day."

Upstairs, Jim went into his own bedroom while John paused outside the boys' room. The door was closed and there didn't seem to be a light on, but he could hear their voices. He thought about knocking, but decided not to interfere.

--

And so things went for the next several days. John worked with the boys and their training, but managed to maintain his patience and remember that Sammy was only eleven. It didn't matter what John said or did, Dean always pushed himself to his limit and beyond.

One evening, after a full afternoon of physical training, the boys were on the couch watching a movie while John went through the newspapers of several neighboring towns. He wasn't planning to go off on a job, but still wanted to keep up with what was going on. Jim had been gone all day, presumably on church business.

John glanced up as the back door opened and immediately saw Jim's expression. It was obvious that something was wrong.

"Jim?" he asked, concerned.

The pastor looked around, almost seeming lost for a few moments before he joined John at the table.

"One of the church families….their house is a few miles outside of town. They….they're dead. All of them. Parents, grandparents and four children."

"Oh my god. What happened?"

Jim shook his head, his hands flat against the table. "Police think it was some kind of gang."

"Here?" John asked, surprised small town cops would jump to that conclusion.

Jim shrugged. "Remote house, roving criminals. It's been known to happen."

"What do you think?" John asked after a moment.

"The grandmother was a psychic. She used to use a Ouija board to contact spirits, but had a bad experience maybe 20 years ago and gave it up. A few weeks ago they started having some trouble at the house –"

"This isn't what you wanted me to look into, is it?"

Jim waved his hand. "No, no. I talked to Gladys a week ago, I guess. She confided in me that spirits were trying to contact her again. She wanted to ignore them….."

John waited for a moment. "What was her bad experience?"

"I honestly don't know. It was before she moved here and she never told me about it. She knew about hunters and my connection, but she never felt she needed to confide in me more than she did."

"Who were the spirits trying to contact her now?"

"I don't know," Jim shook his head sadly. "My God, John. I _saw_ them. It was awful."

"You were there?"

Jim nodded. "Yes. I'd gone to the house to talk to Gladys and…."

"I'll look into it, Jim."

"I can't ask you to do that. Not –"

"You're not asking."

Jim looked at his friend with gratitude. John reached across the table and patted his wrist. "I'll find out what happened."

--

After getting as much information from Jim as he could, John got ready to pose as an FBI agent and headed off to the Masons' home. The local police had been working the scene all day and John was happy and a little surprised to see he had the place to himself when he arrived.

Jim's horrific description of what he'd seen had not completely prepared John for what he saw when he got into the house. There was blood everywhere; puddled on the floor, soaked into the carpet, splattered and even smeared on the walls. It also looked as if no piece of furniture had been left untouched.

John walked around, doing his best to avoid what the police had left and taking in all the detail he could. He pulled an EMF monitor from a pocket, but got no readings. That didn't mean there hadn't been any spirit activity earlier, however.

Two hours later, John still couldn't say definitively that the deaths had been caused by paranormal activity, but he'd found the Ouija board hidden in the back of what he assumed was Gladys' closet. He'd also found signs of protective symbols around the house, but apparently they weren't hadn't been powerful enough. He had no real evidence, but he just didn't believe that the destruction he was seeing had been caused by humans.

Jim had told him that he'd found Gladys in the kitchen, so John went back there again after he'd looked through the rest of the large house. He was just about to leave when he found something that made his blood run cold.

--

"Are you sure?" Jim asked, shock clear in his voice.

"It was sulfur, Jim. That much I am sure of."

Jim rubbed his chin. "But that means…."

"A demon."

"You think a demon was trying to contact Gladys?"

"I don't know that much about demons. We should call Bobby."

"John, this is just….this is so unbelievable."

"Yeah, and it can't be good," John said as he moved across the kitchen toward the telephone. "Where are the boys?"

"Over at the children's home. There are a couple of new boys there about Sam's age and I couldn't….I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not." He never minded Sam and Dean spending time at the children's home that was run by Jim's church and they seemed to enjoy it. Besides, he suspected that Jim just wanted them out of the house so they could deal with the problem at hand.

"The kids are watching a movie tonight and one of the staff will bring the boys home later."

"It's fine, Jim. Really," John said as he reached for the telephone.

Bobby Singer was a friend and contact who was also an expert on demons. The demonic possession and death of his wife years before drove him to learn as much as he could about demons and his knowledge of all things supernatural had been of invaluable help over the years.

He made his home in Deadwood, South Dakota where he also ran an auto salvage yard. John left a message when his call went to Bobby's answering machine.

"Looks like I have time to do some studying until Bobby calls back."

"Me, too."

--

Dean knew there was something going on at Jim's house. He'd seen how pale the man was and when his dad left, Dean was sure he was going to check something out. Even Sam had noticed Jim's discomfort and when he suggested they go to the children's home for the evening, Sam hadn't demanded information.

There were 12 kids living in the house, fewer than other times when Sam and Dean had visited, and even though it was usually a co-ed facility, there were only boys at present. Sam had connected with one in particular and they were hold up in a corner of the rec room playing chess while the others watched a movie. Dean sat where he could see the television and also keep an eye on his brother.

He was proud of the way Sam had reacted to whatever was happening, but realized that was probably more because of how he felt about Jim than anything else. Dean didn't try to fool himself that if their dad had suggested they spend the evening at the children's home that Sam would have rebelled.

Dean saw Sam look toward him with a questioning expression and he nodded slightly, then turned back to the television.

--

John had just hung up the phone when he heard a car pull up outside. He looked through the window and saw his sons get out of a dark hatchback. They were laughing and turned to wave at the driver before walking toward the house. John met them at the front door, needing something to concentrate on something other than what he'd seen at the Masons' house earlier and the information he'd been collecting all evening.

"Hey, boys," he forced a smile.

"Hi, Dad," Dean said, looking at him. Dean always seemed to know what John felt; sometimes that made him feel guilty because the father should take care of the son.

"How was the movie?"

"It was good," Dean answered. John couldn't miss the look of warning that he gave his brother. "Sammy found himself a chess partner who could almost beat him."

John looked at his younger son with affection and put his arm around Sam's shoulders. "You had some competition, huh?"

"Yes, sir," Sam smiled. "But I still won."

"Good for you."

"What's going on here?" Dean asked as he walked further into the living room.

"Just a little research," John answered as he poured a line of salt in front of the door.

"Can I help?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at the titles of the books John had piled on the floor next to the couch. "Demons?"

Sam looked at his father. "For real?"

John squeezed his shoulders, then sat down on the couch. "Why don't you just leave this to me for now? I just talked to Bobby; he's gonna head out here."

"Uncle Bobby's coming?" Sam asked. "Cool."

"Where's Pastor Jim?" Dean asked, taking the spot next to his father.

"Upstairs. He's got an early day tomorrow, but I don't think he's going to get any sleep."

"Is there really a demon here?" Sam asked, sitting down on the coffee table.

"Looks that way," John said. "So I want you two to be extra careful. Jim and I salted the windows and doors, so be mindful of it."

"Yes, sir," Dean said. John saw him glance at the beer bottles on the end table, but was relieved when he didn't mention them. "You gonna go to bed soon?"

"In a bit. Why don't you both head up? It's kind of late."

"I'll help you clean up," Dean said, looking at Sam pointedly. "Go on up, Sam. I'll be there in a minute."

John watched as an entire conversation passed silently between his sons. After a moment, Sam gave in and stood up. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Sammy. Check your window, okay?"

"I will."

Sam gave his brother a sharp look before leaving the room.

John waited until he heard Sam's on the stairs. "Dean –"

"I'll just clean up," Dean said quickly as he started to gather the beer bottles.

"Dean," John began again. "It's fine."

"But –"

"It's fine, Dean. _I'm _fine."

"So….demons."

"Sit down, son."

Dean sat back down next to his father and looked at him. John knew he was fifteen, but often still saw him as a little boy. He knew Dean was more responsible than any other boy his age and he was more skilled than some soldiers, but John saw him through they eyes of a father.

John hesitated a moment, then told Dean about the Masons. Even though he knew Dean could handle the details, he told the story in the least graphic way possible.

"And Bobby's coming to help?"

John nodded. "Yeah, he is."

"Demons," Dean shook his head. "That's big."

"Yeah, but we'll handle it," John said. "It's okay,"

He felt an unusual need to comfort his son or maybe the need was to get comfort from him. John couldn't get the site of what he'd seen earlier out of his head. He'd been witness to a lot of horrific things since he'd started hunting over a decade before and a lot of it still really got to him.

He'd tried talking to Jim earlier. What John had seen was bad enough, but it had only been the aftermath. Jim had seen the bodies. People he'd known. John knew he'd have to talk about it eventually.

"You and your brother all right?' John asked.

"Sure," Dean shrugged.

"You're not fighting?"

"No, he's just pissy because I wanted to talk to you alone."

"Takin' care of your old man again?"

"You don't need me to take care of you," Dean said quietly.

John put an arm around his shoulders. "We all take care of each other. Why don't you go on up to bed?"

"You sure?"

John nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak at the moment.

Dean stood up. "Goodnight, Dad."

John smiled at him.

--

"You and Dad have a nice little chat?"

Dean heard the anger and hurt in his brother's voice, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with it. He slipped out of his jeans and climbed under the covers of his bed. "Shut up, Sammy. Don't forget you're only eleven."

He turned off the lamp and rolled over, his back to Sam.

"Is Dad okay?" Sam asked quietly a few minutes later.

"Yeah, I think so."

"He's never gone up against a demon, has he?"

"I don't know. But Bobby has and he's on the way."

"Dean?" Sam asked after another silence.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I just…."

Dean sighed to himself. He never could stay mad at Sam for very long. "It's okay, Sammy. Let's just go to sleep, okay?"

--

Sam and Dean spent some time with Bobby after he arrived the following afternoon, then John handed over the Impala keys to Dean with a warning. "Be careful; stay out of trouble."

"Yes, sir. We'll just go to a movie and then grab something to eat."

"You have enough money?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll have the pager on me. Page me after the movie." He ignored Dean's curious look.

"I will."

John felt anxious, but he couldn't put his finger on the exact reason. He'd trusted the boys to take care of themselves for years, although never when there was a potential demon running around town. On the other hand, they were only going to a theater and a restaurant. He pushed the negative thoughts away and briefly hugged the boys on their way out of the door. It wasn't a completely unfamiliar act, though admittedly the physical contact had grown less frequent over time.

Once the boys were gone, John turned to Bobby. Both men were tenacious and they often clashed, but no matter what was going on they always any bad feelings aside when there was work to be done. Bobby was first pulled into hunting after the death of his wife several years before. He'd known nothing of the supernatural, let alone demons, but after being forced to kill the woman he loved, Bobby found himself immersed.

He'd met a hunter who was on the trail of the demon that had possessed his wife. At first, Bobby had thought the man was insane, but gradually came to realize that his stories were real and his wife had been the victim not of a mental illness, but demon possession.

John had come across a lot of hunters over the years, but none knew as much about demons as Bobby.

"So, where's Jim?" Bobby asked.

"At the church. He's making plans for the Masons' funeral. I guess some other family is coming into town….I've barely seen him since yesterday."

"He's probably not handling this too good. He was friends with those people, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. They were members of his church and I'm sure he felt a responsibility toward them."

"So, one of them was a psychic?"

John nodded, sitting down on the couch. He went through the information that Jim had shared, though he'd already told Bobby everything he knew.

"I talked to the detective in charge of the case," John said. "I used my handy-dandy FBI credentials and said I'd come across the information on the murders while looking into an ongoing federal case. We talked for quite a while. They're going through the motions, but seem pretty willing to let it go at an unknown gang. There have been a few other similar attacks in other nearby towns. I think they'd be happy to turn this one over to the feds."

"Other attacks?" Bobby asked.

John nodded. "I looked into them. I don't think they're related, but I want you to take a look."

"How about we go check on Jim, then head out to the property? I'll look at the other stuff later."

"Let's go," John agreed.

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

**Stuck in Two Worlds**

**Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

A/N: I'm still tweaking the last chapter, but it may well be up later today. Thanks to everyone who has read so far. And for those who took the time to review or to send a private message, thanks for your thoughts!

oooOOOooo

Keep your fears to yourself but share your courage with others

Robert Louis Stevenson

There must always be a struggle between a father and son, while one aims at power and the other at independence

Samuel Johnson

oooOOOooo

The two hunters found Jim alone in the church office. He was sitting in a worn leather chair, turned slightly and staring out of the window behind his desk.

"Calvary's here," Bobby announced.

Jim glanced at him, then turned back to the window.

Bobby glanced at John before taking a chair in front of the desk. John sat in the second.

"Sorry," Bobby muttered. "I know you were close to the Masons."

Jim said nothing.

"John and I are going back out to the house; take a look around. Maybe I'll see something that can narrow this down."

Jim nodded.

"John tells me one of these people was a psychic, but had tried to shut if off over the years."

"She'd gotten good at ignoring the spirits," Jim said quietly. "Eventually most of them seemed to give up."

"She told you something was trying to contact her."

Jim sighed and turned completely around. He leaned forward, elbows on the desk and hands clasped. "She wouldn't tell me much about it. Just that something was trying to contact her and was causing a little trouble at the house. She wouldn't say anything specific and seemed to be downplaying what was going on."

Bobby nodded thoughtfully.

"I want to go out to the house with you."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," John said. "I only saw the aftermath and I don't really want to go back out there. You knew these people, Jim, you –"

"Which is all the more reason; I owe them something. Maybe if I'd tried harder, I would have gotten Gladys to talk to me. Maybe I could have done something to stop this."

John and Bobby exchanged a look.

"That's pretty unlikely," Bobby said.

"I guess we'll never know, will we?" Jim asked.

Bobby sat back and sighed. "I need to see the house. Whoever is going, let's go."

--

There was no law enforcement at the house when they arrived. Based on John's talk with the detective, he wasn't all that surprised. He knew they weren't really going to let it go, of course. They'd work the evidence, but there was little reason to come back to the house.

Jim was clearly having a hard time going through the house with Bobby and John, but in the end it was probably good that he was there. John felt that it helped Jim begin to sort out his feelings, but in addition, he was able to spot a few things that didn't seem right based on his other visits to the house. John wasn't sure they were important, but considering how little they really knew, everything was worth checking out.

"Is there anyone you know of that Gladys would have confided in?" Bobby asked Jim once he'd been through every room.

Jim stepped off the porch and turned to face Bobby. "I don't know. She had some friends, but I don't think she made it a habit to talk about her psychic ability."

"Why did she tell you about it?" John asked.

Jim shrugged. "She wasn't able to turn it off completely and sensed my connection to the supernatural. At least that's what she told me."

"Do you agree this was the work of a demon?" John asked, looking at Bobby.

"Definitely. Could be more than one. The trick is to find the sonofabitch. I want to check out those other places that you mentioned."

"What other places?" Jim asked.

John told him about the phone call to the detective in charge of the case and Jim shook his head.

"I didn't know anything about them. How could I not know?"

"Don't beat yourself up. You –"

"It's part of my job to know what's going on. Those towns aren't even that far from here. I –"

"Come on, Jim," John said. "Even you can't know everything. None of this is your fault."

The pastor looked unconvinced. "If I knew about the other deaths –"

"Jim, none of us is perfect. We all miss things. And depending on how, or even _if_, those other deaths were reported, they could have gone right under the radar." John looked at his friend. "Besides, as you always tell me, it doesn't do any good to beat yourself up. We can't save everyone; all we can do it learn and go forward."

"It sounds better when I say it," Jim said, attempting a smile.

John put an arm around his shoulders and they walked to the car together. John was about to slip into the passenger seat of Jim's car when his pager beeped.

"Something's wrong," he said after looking at the display. "We need to get to the boys."

--

The parking lot of the restaurant was full of police cars and gawkers. Jim saw the Impala parked on the other side of the street; he pulled over to let John and Bobby out, then drove off to find another spot. Sam got out of the car and rushed toward his father, Dean not far behind.

John hugged Sam, then put an arm around his shoulders. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir."

He looked to Dean. "You?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me again what happened."

"We left the theater after the movie and came here," Dean began, standing as if he were giving a military briefing. "As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, the radio turned to static and the engine started to sputter. Sammy saw a girl inside attack a man – I got us out of the parking lot and parked here. We saw the girl attack a couple of the customers before everyone started racing out and a few minutes later, the cops got here."

"You did everything right, Dean," John said, feeling Sam shaking next to him. John held him more securely. "Both of you did. Do you know where the girl is now?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry, but everything just exploded."

"That's okay, kid," Bobby said. "What did she look like?"

The boys agreed on a description and Bobby looked at John. "You got your FBI creds on you?"

"In the car," he took the keys from Dean and opened the trunk. He got out what he needed and heard Jim behind him. John quickly updated him. "Can you take the boys back to your place?'

"Of course."

"Well meet you back there as soon as we can." John went back to his sons. "You two did a good job. I want you to go with Pastor Jim and take precautions once you get to the house."

Sam looked at his father, but didn't say anything. John wanted to bark and order, but he saw the fear in his son's eyes and smiled instead. "It's okay, Sammy. I'll be there soon. Just go with your brother."

Dean stepped forward and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Come on, Sammy."

After another look to his father, Sam walked away with Dean.

--

John knew that no matter how it might have seemed when he spoke to the detective in charge on the telephone, the police force was invested in the town. If necessary, they would call in the state police or some other agency for help and when that happened, things would become more complicated. He knew the attack at the Masons' home wasn't the work of humans and Bobby concurred. Chances were that the same was the case with the fast food restaurant.

Using the phony FBI credentials, John gained access to the scene. Bobby didn't have identification with him, but it was assumed he was with John and they were given free reign. John spoke to the officer in charge and to the same detective John spoke to before when he arrived while Bobby roamed around, collecting his own evidence and listening while witnesses were interviewed.

"What do you think?" John asked as they walked across the street after an hour.

"This town has trouble."

"Yeah. So what do we do? How do we find a demon?"

"We could summon it, but there's no guarantee we'd get the right one. Come on, let's go to the house."

John's pager went off as soon as he was in the car.

"What is it?" Bobby asked.

"We need to get to Jim's."

--

Jim's house was on a dead-end road and the nearest neighbor was over a mile away. It was a short walk though the woods to get to the back of the church, but John had never realized how remote the house actually was. As he drove past the last streetlight before the house, he noticed it wasn't lit even though the sun had set over an hour before.

He slowed down when he saw Jim's car parked at the end of the driveway, the passenger side door open.

"Shit," John muttered. He pulled up behind the other car and looked around.

"Gun?" Bobby asked.

"Under the seat; probably to the right a little."

Bobby found the gun and checked it while John reached under the seat for his own.

"Don't go off half-cocked," Bobby warned.

"My kids could be hurt, Bobby. Let's go."

"Look, someone paged you, so…."

Bobby let the sentence trail when John got out of the car. He followed quickly, pausing at Jim's car as John made his way to the house.

John glanced over his shoulder when Jim came up behind him, then pushed open the front door. The living room looked untouched; John motioned for Jim to continue through the first floor while he went upstairs. He found the telephone in Jim's bedroom off the hook, but there was no sign of him or the boys.

"Nothing," Bobby said when John joined him. "They aren't here and it doesn't look like anything has been touched."

"A phone was off the hook upstairs, but that's it."

"Let's go back outside and look around. Maybe head for the church."

John agreed and they went to the kitchen and out the back door. They first looked in the area around the house, moving toward the path leading to the church. They had only gone a few feet into the thinly wooded lot when they found Jim, dazed and resting against a tree. His arm was resting over his chest at an odd angle.

Bobby knelt down and examined him briefly. Jim tried to move away, but Bobby kept a hold of him. "Settle down, it's Bobby and John."

"The boys," Jim whispered.

"Where are the boys?" John asked anxiously.

"Sent them to the church," Jim said, clearly in pain.

Before Bobby could stop him, John headed off in a run. Bobby called after him, knowing it would do no good.

"Go," Jim said. "Go."

"You're hurt; I'm not leaving you."

"It's bad, Bobby. You have to go."

"What do you mean? What did this?" Bobby asked.

"Girl…had to be possessed. Go after John."

Bobby was torn. He patted Jim lightly. "I won't be gone long."

Jim nodded and Bobby reluctantly left him alone.

--

There was no sign of Sam and Dean; John desperately hoped they made it into the church. The building itself would provide some protection, but if they'd gotten inside, they would have headed for a room in the basement that was virtually impenetrable by supernatural entities.

John hadn't quite made it to the church when he heard Sam calling him. He looked in the direction of his son's voice and saw him sitting on the ground, Dean's head cradled in his lap. There was a woman standing over them, smiling at him.

"Get away from them," John said, his voice low and dangerous.

"When I'm ready," she said, her smile growing.

"Sammy, how badly is Dean hurt?"

"I don't know," Sam answered, clearly struggling against tears. "She slammed him into a tree."

John made eye contact with him and tried to portray a look of confidence before turning back to the woman.

"What do you want?"

"All in good time, John. All in good time. And your boy here did this to himself; it was self-defense."

"He's just a boy," John said.

She laughed. "He's quite a formidable boy. But that's neither here nor there."

"Why did you kill the Masons? And what about the fast food restaurant today?"

"The second one was just for fun. The Masons….well…." she grinned at John. "As I said before, all in good time. I came here just to talk. To introduce myself, so to speak. We could have had a nice, civil conversation if the holy man and your kid had let that happen. Now I'm not in the mood to chat, so we'll just have to wait for another time. Don't worry. You'll hear from me again."

John wanted to fire a shot, but Bobby coming up from behind stopped him. He knew the bullet would hurt the victim and not the demon, but it was hard to control his anger and fear. As soon as the demon had turned away, John rushed forward to his sons. He quickly lost track of the demon and of Bobby after the hunter ran after her.

John expertly examined Dean, concerned that he was unconscious and there was already a large bump on the back of his head.

"Help him, Daddy," Sam whispered, finally losing the battle with his tears.

John looked at Sam, surprised. He briefly touched Sam's face.

--

John was able to proficiently handle any number of situations, but he'd found himself almost paralyzed seeing one of his children hurt. Later he couldn't even remember exactly how it happened, but he found himself in the emergency room waiting area, sitting on a worn couch with Sam, an arm around his son's shoulders. Sam leaned against him, seemingly not able to get close enough.

John glanced at Bobby when he walked into the waiting room.

"Jim's fine. He's got a broken arm, but it could have been a lot worse. He's getting a cast and will be able to leave in a couple of hours. Have you heard anything about Dean yet?"

John noticed Sam perk up at the mention of his brother's name, but seeing Bobby, Sam leaned back against him. John shook his head, holding Sam more securely. "Not yet."

"You guys want something to eat or drink?"

"I could use some coffee," John said. He wasn't particularly interested in food or beverage, but thought Sam could probably use something. "Can you get something for Sam, too?"

Bobby nodded and headed away. He'd just come back when a doctor approached the group.

"How is my brother?" Sam asked before John could say anything.

The doctor smiled at him. "He's going to be just fine. He's awake and he has quite a headache, but he's all right. I'd like to keep him here for a few hours, though. Just to be on the safe side."

"Does he have a concussion?" Sam asked, earning him a surprised look from the doctor.

"He does, but there's no reason to believe he'll have any extended problems from it."

"When can we see him?"

"You can see him right now if it's okay with your dad."

John was pretty sure it wouldn't matter what he said, not that he would try to keep Sam away from his brother.

"As I said, Mr. Swann," the doctor said as they walked down the hallway. "I want to keep Dean here for a few hours. I'm not expecting any problems, but it's always best with a head injury."

John nodded. "I understand."

"Your younger son seems to know a lot about the subject," the doctor smiled.

"Yeah, he, uh, took a first aid course in school."

"It's amazing what kids learn these days," the doctor paused outside of a cubicle at the end of the hallway. "Here we are. Now, he might be a little confused and so far he has no memory of what happened. That might never return, so don't worry. You can stay with him for as long as you want as long as he gets the rest he needs."

"Thanks, doc."

The doctor nodded and headed back down the hall. John put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You ready?"

Sam's eyes moved from the closed curtain to his father. Both boys had been hurt in the course of training and normal boy activities, but this was the first time either of them had ended up in the hospital. It was jarring enough for John and he could only guess what Sam was feeling.

"You heard the doctor, Sammy. He's okay."

"I….I've never seen him in a hospital, Dad."

Sam's uncertain tone tore at John's heart. "Neither have I, kiddo."

Sam stood straighter. "He's in there by himself. We should go in."

"Yeah, we should."

John squeezed his shoulder and pulled the curtain aside. He felt Sam stiffen, but he took a few steps forward until he was standing next to the bed. Dean's eyes were closed and even though they'd made almost no noise walking into the cubicle, he seemed to sense the presence of his family.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean's eyes opened and he looked at his brother. His voice was rough and he sounded tired, but he was able to focus immediately. "You okay?"

"I'm not in the hospital," Sam whispered.

"I'll be outta here soon. The doctor said I'm fine."

"He said you'll _be _fine," John corrected, moving a chair closer to the bed while Sam settled on the edge. "We can take you home in a couple of hours, but you're going to have to rest."

Dean looked at his father briefly. "I'm sorry, Dad. I messed up. Pastor Jim – is he…?"

"He's fine. He has a broken arm, but as soon as the cast is on, Bobby will take him home."

"Did he tell you what happened?"

"Sammy did."

"It was...all of a sudden this…chick was standing in front of us. Jim pulled into the driveway and there she was. The engine stopped and Jim told us to just run. To get to the church," Dean stopped talking, seemingly out of energy.

John leaned forward, noticing that Sam's hand was resting on top of Dean's. "You don't have to talk about it now, Dean."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I told Dad all about it. How Pastor Jim told us to run to the church. And how that woman caught up to us and you stood between me and her. You tried to keep her away from me and…."

John saw Sam's lower lip begin to quiver like it had when he told the story earlier. It broke his heart to see his little boy so frightened, but at the same time he was proud of how well he was handling what he'd been through. Sam probably hadn't had time to process everything he'd seen, but so far he was doing very well.

"Okay, guys, that's enough for now," John said, not quite trusting his voice. "How do you feel, Dean?"

"All right."

John knew he was lying. "I bet you have quite a headache."

"It's not so bad."

"Are you thirsty?" he asked, seeing a pitcher and cup on the bedside table.

"A little," Dean said. "The nurse left it a little while ago."

John poured some water into the cup and handed it to Dean, noticing his hand shake a little as he took it. He also noticed Sam was still maintaining physical contact with his brother.

"Do I really have to stay here, Dad?"

"Yeah, but just for a little while."

Dean leaned back against the pillow and Sam took the cup from him. "We're gonna stay with you, but if you get tired, you can go to sleep."

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean smiled briefly.

--

A few hours later, with the boys safely in their beds at Jim's house and Jim asleep in his room, John sat in the living room with Bobby. He'd been keeping his emotions in check for hours and he needed a release. He stood up and began to pace.

"How about we take a trip down to the basement?" Bobby suggested. "Doesn't Jim have a punching bag and some boxing gloves?"

Jim glanced at him. "Yeah, he does."

Bobby leaned against the concrete wall, watching John. He'd not bothered with the gloves, but was beating the hell out of the punching bag nonetheless. He looked angry and Bobby could almost feel the fear coming from him. John wasn't afraid of much it seemed, but it wasn't every day a demon went after his kids.

"You okay?" Bobby asked when John finally walked away from the punching bag.

John flexed his fingers before taking the bottle of beer from his friend. "No."

"Can't say I blame ya," Bobby said.

"The demon knew my name, Bobby."

"I wouldn't put much stock into that. Demons know things."

"Damn thing went after my kids, Bobby. What if…"

"What if what?" Bobby asked as John turned away.

John shook his head. "Nothing. It's just….I've always thought Mary's death had something to do with Sammy. Not that he caused it, but it happened in his nursery and….I don't know. What if this thing is after him?"

"If that was the case, wouldn't it have just taken Sam?"

"I suppose," John mused as he began to pace again. "So, what do I do to keep them safe from a demon?"

"You know the answer to that."

"I can't keep them behind salt all the time. There's got to be something else."

"John, we're talking about a demon. They're powerful."

"So, how do we get rid of this one?"

"We'll exorcise it," Bobby said simply. He could tell that a lot of thoughts were going through John's head and he wasn't looking for any in-depth answers at the moment. He let John pace for a little longer before stepping forward. "John, you're not doing yourself any good this way. Go upstairs, take a shower and we'll start fresh in the morning."

Before John could answer, they heard a scream come from somewhere within the house. Without hesitation, John raced for the stairs with Bobby not far behind.

--

John stopped short in the doorway of the bedroom Sam and Dean were using. Dean was sitting on the edge of Sam's bed, comforting him. Sam was clinging to his brother in a way John had not seen in a long time. He glanced at Jim who was standing just inside the door, a shotgun by his side. Dean must have heard his father and Bobby coming and he looked toward the door.

"It's okay; Sammy just had a nightmare."

John moved forward and on the bed. He didn't expect Sam to turn his attention from his brother and he didn't. That didn't stop John from putting a hand on Sam's back and sharing a look with Dean. John noticed Bobby and Jim back out of the room and after a few moments, Dean had calmed Sam considerably.

"You want to talk about it?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable. "It was about what happened today."

Dean looked at his father and John took that as is cue to say something. He moved his hand to Sam's blanket-covered leg, trying to think of something helpful. He felt that anything he said would be woefully inadequate. "It's okay, Sammy. I'll probably dream about it when I go to sleep, too, and I wasn't even there. I'm proud of how you handled yourself."

Sam looked at him, surprise clear on his face. "I didn't do anything."

"You didn't panic and you took care of your brother. You did all you could."

John didn't see the sudden look of disappointment on Dean's face.

"You okay?" John asked, his attention still on Sam.

Sam nodded. "I think so. It was just a dream. I'm going to the bathroom."

Dean moved, giving Sam room to slip out of the bed.

"How are you feeling? How's the headache?" John asked him.

"I'm fine," Dean replied stiffly. He got into his own bed, his back against the headboard.

John looked at him curiously. "Dean –"

"I said I'm fine," Dean said again as he pulled the blanket up over his chest.

"You want to talk about earlier? We didn't really and –"

"I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"What?" John moved to Dean's bed.

"I screwed up and got hurt. I left Sammy unprotected."

"Dean, you didn't disappoint me. What are you talking about?"

"I got hurt."

"Oh." John moved to Dean's bedside and sat down. "Sammy told me what you did; you got between him and a demon. Dean….you did nothing to disappoint me. You could have been killed, son and…"

John was suddenly too choked up to speak. He tried to reign in his emotions, aware that Dean was watching him and that Sam would be back any moment. He moved closer to his older son and hugged him. John sensed Dean's surprise, but after a moment, Dean's arms went around him.

"I still heave a headache," Dean whispered after a moment.

John pulled away and smiled, putting his hand on Dean's cheek. "You got decked by a demon. You're lucky that's all you have."

"Yes, sir," Dean smiled.

--

John woke up the next morning when Bobby gently shook his shoulder. He looked toward the boys' beds, then stood up, not at all enjoying the stiffness in his back. He followed Bobby into the hall and took the offered cup of coffee from him.

"Thanks," John said after a few sips.

"You slept in that chair all night?"

"Sammy could have had another nightmare or Dean might have gotten sick."

Bobby nodded. "Uh-huh. Take a shower, then come downstairs."

"Something wrong?"

"No. Well, no more than there was last night."

"Swell," John took another sip of coffee before going into the bathroom.

After letting the hot water work out most of the kinks, John felt better. He checked on the boys before going downstairs and found them still sleeping. Jim and Bobby were sitting at the kitchen table and after refilling his coffee cup, John joined them.

"How's the arm, Jim?" John asked.

"It's all right. Look, John, about what happened. I'm sorry, I—"

"I don't want anyone else trying to apologize for yesterday. It's not like it's every day we go up against a demon and considering you and my boys are all still alive, I'd say everyone did a pretty good job. Did you talk to the police?"

"More than one officer and a detective. They're assuming it's part of what happened with the Masons and in town. They talk to Sam?"

John nodded. "Yeah, but I managed to keep it short. He was pretty upset seeing you and Dean get hurt. Besides, the detective handling the Mason case still thinks I'm with the FBI. My kids getting attacked makes that a little sticky, but I think I worked it out."

"So," Jim looked at Bobby. "Any ideas what we're going to do about this?"

"I have an end game, but no way to get there yet."

"What about protecting the boys?"

"You think this thing is here because of Sam?" Jim asked.

Bobby looked at him surprised and the pastor shrugged.

"Come on, Bobby. You know as well as I do what we've always suspected," Jim said. "Not that we'd be dealing with a demon, necessarily, but that something would eventually come for Sam."

"And you think that's what this is?" Bobby asked.

"In the short term, that doesn't matter," John said. "There's a demon running around town killing people. We have to stop it. And if we stop something bigger, that's even better."

The ringing of the telephone cut off further conversation. Jim walked across the room to answer it as the other men watched. When it became apparent he was discussing church business, John and Bobby went back to their own conversation.

--

"Where are you going, Dad?" Sam asked when he came downstairs later and found his father putting on his boots.

"Just to run a couple errands. Is your brother still asleep?"

"He's taking a shower. He said he was feeling better."

"How are you doing?"

Sam shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

John held out an arm. "Come here."

Sam shuffled forward and sat down next to his father.

"How are you doing?" John asked again, gently.

"I'm scared, Dad. I'm sorry, but –"

"There's no reason to be sorry. It's okay to be scared; it shows you're thinking. But you're safe here. We've taken all kinds of precautions. In fact, I'm going out to get some things that Bobby can use to make it even more secure."

"What if the demon comes after you while you're out? Is Bobby going with you?"

"No. He's going to stay here to work on something and look after you and Dean. I'm dropping Jim off at the church so he can get some of his work done."

"You'll be careful?"

"I'll be careful." He noticed the thoughtful look on Sam's face. "What are you thinking about?"

"Do you think that demon is here for one of us?"

"What do you mean?" John asked, hoping his own expression didn't give anything away. "Did it say something to you?"

Sam shook his head. "No, but it seemed to know who we are."

"Demons know things, Sammy. I wouldn't read too much into that."

"I guess."

John put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him briefly. "I'll be back soon, okay? Make sure your brother gets something to eat. You too, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

--

After dropping Jim off at the church, John continued on. Bobby had given him a list of things to find that would provide additional protection for the house as well as things they could all carry inconspicuously.

It was hard for John to keep his mind on the tasks at hand because his thoughts kept going back to the boys. He didn't want to believe this was the battle he'd been expecting since Mary died; he didn't feel ready at all. He'd considered the attacker was a demon, but such a thing was so rare, that he'd all but discounted it over the years.

But what if he had been wrong?

John didn't want to think about it, but at the same time he couldn't stop. If this was the final showdown and he was somehow successful, it wasn't too late for the boys to live a normal life. He'd still hunt because it was important, but he wouldn't have to be so rabid about it. He could even slip more into a consultant role, like Bobby or Jim, and provide a real home for his children.

His mind wasn't completely on the road ahead of him and when John turned a corner and saw a woman standing in the middle of the street, it took him a moment longer to react than it should have. The woman rolled over the hood of the Impala after the car hit her and she sprawled onto the cement.

John stopped the car on the deserted street and rushed to check on the woman he'd hit. Before he reached her, she stood up. As she brushed the dirt from her clothes, John recognized her as the possessed woman who had attacked his sons.

"You," he growled.

She grinned. "Me. Wanna go for a ride?"

"Not particularly."

She walked toward the car. "It would be in your best interest."

John reluctantly followed her and slipped behind the wheel.

"What's wrong with here?" he asked.

"It's not a well-traveled street, but it's far from private. There's a house up ahead about five miles. No one lives there and it's perfect for our purpose."

"What is our purpose?" John asked.

She smiled at him. "We have to talk."

John realized he didn't really have a choice. He drove to the house and parked in the back.

"Consider this a neutral zone," she said. "No attacks."

"I'm supposed to trust you?"

"I agree it's a little out of the ordinary," she grinned. "But what's the alternative?"

John grudgingly followed her inside. He leaned against a living room wall while she settled comfortably onto the couch.

"Do you have a name?" he asked.

"You can call me Adriane."

"Is that the name of the person you're possessing?"

"You mean the person you just mowed down with your car?"

"You were in the middle of the road."

"Indeed. Well, I'm sure you're anxious to get this over with, so shall we get started?"

"Oh, by all means," John said, successfully matching the demon's carefree tone.

She leaned forward, managing to look completely feminine and disturbingly human.

--

After leaving Adriane, John drove aimlessly. He wasn't even sure how long had passed when he pulled into the parking lot of a remote roadside bar. Looking at his watch, he saw it was just after noon, though as long as the place was open, he didn't care about the time.

There was a lot he didn't know about demons, but the one thing he did know was that they lied. They got inside a person's head and plucked out anything they could to make their story more believable. But sometimes they told the truth and that was what John kept focusing on now.

Inside the dark bar, he quickly drank two shots of tequila before ordering a beer. He'd been gone for several hours and he knew the boys would be worried, but he didn't trust himself to speak and he intentionally left his pager in the car. After finishing the beer, his thoughts were no more concise, but he was feeling guilty for being out of touch. After a trip to the men's room, he paused at the pay phone and decided to make the call.

Dean answered the phone and John suddenly found himself needed to lean against the wall for support.

"Hey, Dean, it's your dad."

"Where are you? You've been gone a long time."

"I know; I'm sorry. I just ran into a little hitch, but it's fine. Is everything all right there? How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Dad, we're okay. When are you coming back?"

"Soon, okay?"

"Dad, you sound weird. Are you all right?"

"Dean," John paused, checking his tone. It wasn't like Dean to question him and he knew that meant the boy was worried. "Yeah, son, I'm fine. I just wanted to check in."

"Dad –"

"Just stay inside, okay? Keep your brother inside. And make sure the salt lines are solid."

"Dad, you're scaring me."

"I just want you to take precautions, okay? I'll see you soon, Dean," John said and hung up. He held onto the receiver for a moment longer, then went back to the bar for another beer.

John wasn't hungry, but he knew he needed something to absorb the alcohol. After forcing down a burger and fries, he paid his tab and went back to the car. He still sat behind the wheel for several moments before turning the key. He stopped at the church to get Jim, but learned from the secretary that another parishioner had taken him home.

As soon as John pulled into the driveway, Dean was out the door. There was no way to hide the distinctive sound of the Impala's engine, but John suspected his son had been watching through the window.

John got out of the car. "Is everything okay here?"

"Yeah, I told you we were fine. Are you all right?"

"Pretty sure I told you the same thing. What's your brother up to? I'm surprised he's not on your heels."

"He's helping Bobby out with some research," Dean said and looked at his dad's face. "You've been drinking."

"I had a beer with a burger for lunch," John said. There was no point in denying it completely, but he wasn't about to tell Dean how much he'd really had to drink. "Is Jim here? I stopped by the church and the secretary said he'd gotten a ride home."

"Yeah, he's here. He took some pain meds and went to bed."

"And you've had nothing to do but worry about your old man." John put an arm around his shoulders and led him toward the house.

"Where's the stuff you went out to buy?" Dean asked.

"Don't worry about that."

"What's going on?"

John hated how scared Dean sounded, but there wasn't anything he could do to make him feel better. He had no intention of telling him what he'd learned from the demon. Even though John had every reason not to believe a word of it, for some reason he did. It wasn't going to make Dean any less afraid and his sons already had enough fear in their lives.

"You know pretty much what I do, son," John said. "There's a demon in town."

"It feels like more than that."

"You got a pretty big knock on your head yesterday. You know what a concussion can do to—"

"This isn't the concussion, Dad," Dean said and pulled away from him, but his step wavered a little and John quickly reached out to steady him.

"You okay?"

"Sorry, just a little dizzy."

"Yeah, well that probably is the concussion. Let's go inside, you need to rest."

Dean didn't argue.

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

**Stuck in Two Worlds**

**Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

A/N: I've tweaked, un-tweaked , and re-tweaked. Here ya go; it is what it is. Hope you enjoy it and thanks for coming on another ride with me.

oooOOOooo

It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was

Anne Sexton

All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is ruled by mothers and fathers come out at night. Darkness brings home fathers, with their real, unspeakable power. There is more to fathers than meets the eye

Margaret Atwood, _Cat's Eyes_

oooOOOooo

After getting Dean settled on the couch, John went in search of Sam and Bobby.

"Hi, Dad," Sam smiled, looking up from a large book.

"Hey, kiddo. Can you do me a favor and go keep an eye on your brother?"

Sam's face fell. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's okay. He just got a little dizzy. Why don't you get him something to drink and hang out with him for a little bit while I talk to Bobby?"

Sam glanced at the other man, then slid off of his chair. He made a stop at the refrigerator then went to the living room.

"You get the stuff?" Bobby asked once Sam was out of earshot.

"No. Let's go sit outside." John walked to the back door without waiting for a response.

Bobby followed and sat down in one of the chairs on the porch. John paced for a moment, then sat on the bench across from him.

"I want Jim to hear this too, but Dean said he took some medication and went to bed."

"Yeah, his arm was giving him fits. What happened? You look like hell."

John smirked. "Yeah, I imagine I do. I talked to it, Bobby. The demon. I was with it for an hour."

Bobby's eyes widened. "What?"

"She…it…found me and…my god, Bobby."

"John, you know demons can't be trusted."

"I know that. And I have no reason to trust this one, but I think it was telling me the truth."

"What did it tell you?"

"It confirmed what we've suspected all along. Mary's death….it was at the hands of another demon. A powerful one, by the sound of it. And it wants Sammy."

"For what?"

John shrugged. "I don't know."

"John—"

"There's more, Bobby. Something…." John stood up and walked a few steps away. "She, it, whatever…Adriane told me that Mary had made a deal with the demon that came to our house that night. She'd run into it years before."

"What's the likelihood that –"

"Mary and her parents were hunters, Bobby."

"What? You never told me that."

John turned around and looked at his friend. "I only found out a couple of years ago. I had no idea and Mary…she never told me. So the likelihood that she might have run into a demon is actually pretty good."

Bobby rubbed his chin. "Okay, but what –"

"Something came into my house that night, Bobby. It was powerful enough to put Mary on the ceiling and make it burst into flames. I think we can agree that it wasn't a ghost, a werewolf or a zombie. It was a demon. We've suspected that for a long time. Why doubt it now?"

"Because it was confirmed by another demon and they lie."

"But sometimes they tell the truth," John countered.

"And this demon would tell you the truth because…?"

"Apparently they aren't all on the same side."

"I don't know, John. Why would Mary make a deal with a demon? A deal involving her son? It doesn't make sense if she was a hunter."

"She didn't know what she was agreeing to. Not exactly."

"And her incentive for even considering such a thing?"

John started to pace again. "Something happened a long time ago. It was the night I was going to ask her to marry me. I….I only remember some of it."

"Some of what?" Bobby asked, following John's movements.

"We were sitting in the car; parked in a secluded spot. I had the ring….I wanted to ask her to marry me, but she was acting strange. She said there were things about her I didn't know….I didn't think anything about it – I mean, I figured she was talking about an old boyfriend or something. Years later , when I learned she'd been a hunter, I figured out she was probably talking about the hunting that night."

John moved back to the bench and took a deep breath. "Mary's father didn't like me. He didn't want her to marry me ….It's all pretty fuzzy, but he showed up that night and pulled me out of the car. I knew it was him, but later Mary convinced me that it wasn't. I wasn't the same person then, Bobby. I was naïve and I believed everything that Mary said. She told me it was just someone who looked like her father and that I was confused because of the injuries. I believed her."

"I don't understand, John."

"Mary's parents died that night. She told me it was robbers, but I knew – I _knew_ – I let Mary convince me otherwise."

"John…." Bobby leaned forward. "Just tell me….what is it the demon told you?"

John took a deep breath, struggling to make his thoughts coherent. "Samuel, Mary's father, was possessed by the same demon that came to Sammy's nursery years later. Samuel was possessed when he found us in the car. The demon killed me; had already killed Samuel. It killed her mother, too."

"That demon killed you?"

John nodded. "Apparently it told Mary I'd be brought back to life if she agreed not to interfere when it came for something in ten years. Mary didn't know what that something would be."

"Holy shit," Bobby rubbed his chin again and leaned back in the chair. "It came for Sammy. Did the demon intend to take him that night?"

John shook his head. "No. Adriane isn't entirely sure of the other demon's motives, but thinks Sammy can still be saved from whatever the end game is. I guess it's still several years off. And there are other kids involved."

Bobby looked thoughtful and was quiet for a few minutes. "Look, John, you know how demons work. They get into your head and use whatever they can to get to you. Why are you so willing to trust a demon that killed an entire family, terrorized a fast food restaurant and attacked Jim; not to mention your own son?"

"She didn't kill the Mason family."

"Come again?"

"That was another demon. She did terrorize the restaurant. She _is_ a demon, after all. And the thing with Jim and Dean was apparently self defense."

"Self defense," Bobby scoffed. "Whatever. And this other demon?"

"Here for a progress report on Sammy and the other kids. And Adriane is trailing, trying to figure out what the game is."

Bobby stood up. "Why kill the Masons? I mean, other than the obvious that demons are evil."

"Gladys was a hunter, wasn't she?"

Bobby and John turned toward the door as Jim stepped through it.

"Is that what the demon told you?" Jim asked. "That Gladys was a hunter?"

"Did you know?" John asked.

Jim sat down, a pained expression on his face. "No. I suspected, though. That's what the demon told you?"

"Yeah. Apparently it was Gladys that exorcised the other demon –"

"Which one? The one Adriane is allegedly tracking?" Bobby asked. "Shit, I'm going to need a chart."

"The demon this Adriane is trailing killed Gladys for revenge?" Jim asked. "Along with her entire family?"

"Apparently," John looked at his friend. "I'm sorry."

"This isn't your fault, John. You and your boys? You're just victims."

"So, what are we saying here?" Bobby asked. "We believe this Adriane demon? It hasn't told us anything useful. We don't know what demon is supposedly after Sam, or why. We don't know how many other kids are involved, if any really are. Why are we believing this demon?"

"Because it fits," John said quietly. "And if Adriane knew how to stop it, there'd be no reason to warn me. She'd just do it."

"Why warn you at all?"

"Adriane and others want to keep the one who set this all in motion from gaining more power and doing whatever it is that the bastard is doing. And knowing this at least gives me the chance to teach Sam and Dean what they need to know to keep Sam safe. I'll train them harder; bring them into hunting to give them practical experience."

"You're going to tell them about this, then?" Jim asked.

"That their mother was a hunter? No. I can't destroy what little memory Dean has of her and Sammy doesn't need to know that he was part of some deal."

"They don't have to know that part, John."

"I'm not going to tell them that Sammy has a demon on his tail. I can't tell the boys that. But I'll teach them and I'll try to find this demon and figure out a way to destroy it so that Sammy is safe."

Jim and Bobby exchanged a look.

"What about this Adriane demon and the one who killed the Masons? Did it also kill those other families?" Bobby asked after a moment.

"According to Adriane, the other one has gotten the information it came for and has moved on. Adriane planned to follow," John said. "She wasn't specific about the other killings."

"We're just supposed to let them go?" Bobby asked. "Just let these demons run free?"

"Do you have any way to track them down?"

Bobby sighed, obviously frustrated. "Are you saying I don't get to exorcise anything?"

John couldn't help but smile, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Look, I admit that there are still a lot of questions and I'm just assuming this demon is telling the truth," John said after a moment. "I'm not taking everything at face value. I'll check out what I can and maybe figure out a way to get more information. This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

"John," Jim began, his voice quiet. "You wanted to take a little time off to mend fences with Sam. I admire you for that and I think the time you've been spending with him has helped a lot. But if you continue to keep things from him, things that directly involve him, everything you've done these past weeks will be for nothing."

"He's eleven, Jim. I'm supposed to tell him there's a demon after him? I'm supposed to tell him his mother made a deal that allowed that demon to come after him? That's what you think would be good for Sam?"

"He doesn't have to learn everything at once, but –"

"I'd rather he feel safe and hate me than know everything and be afraid all the time. Besides, if I can figure out which demon is after him and a way to stop it, Sam will never have to know anything about it."

Jim had no response.

--

"Something big is going on," Sam said to his brother. Dean was still lying on the couch.

"I'm sure it's fine, Sammy. Dad will take care of it. He always does."

"He's going away again."

"He told you that?"

"Of course not, but I can tell."

"Sammy, what he does –"

"I know. He helps people, but I think this has to do with Mom."

Dean looked at him and Sam noted the flash of hurt in his brother's eyes. Sam had never known their mother, but had grown up hearing Dean's stories about her. He loved the woman because he was supposed to, but she was no more real than any of the other stories Dean had told him over the years. Still, Sam understood her importance to Dean and their dad and he knew that the ultimate goal of all the hunting was to find what had killed her and destroy it.

"What makes you think that?" Dean asked.

"Dad looks sad and he's been drinking more than usual."

"You're not supposed to notice that."

"I see a lot more than you and Dad think I do."

"We don't want you to, Sammy. We want you to feel safe."

"I can't help what I see."

"You're not mad at him any more, are you?" Dean asked as if he'd just realized it.

Sam shook his head. "Not really. I know he's gonna go back to ordering us around and going away a lot. I wish he'd tell us more and I wish he wouldn't leave us alone so much, but I'm not mad at him."

"How come?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I guess cuz I see now how sad hunting really makes him."

Dean looked at him, surprised. "Are you sure you're only eleven?"

Sam shrugged again.

--

"I'm going back to bed," Jim said. "My arm hurts and this conversation made my head hurt."

"You need anything?" John asked.

"Nah. Thanks. There's probably stuff in the kitchen you make for dinner; make yourselves at home."

"Thanks, Jim."

Once Jim was gone, John sat down. "You wanna go out?"

"Yeah."

John smiled.

"So…." Bobby glanced around. "You okay with what that demon told you? I mean, I guess we're going to assume it's all true, so…"

"Mary didn't know what she was agreeing to; she just wanted me back," John said, looking off into the distance. "She didn't know the demon would come after one of her kids. Hell, she didn't even know we'd have kids then."

"So, you're okay?"

"I don't know."

"Well, like ya said," Bobby stood up. "She didn't know what she was agreeing to; she loved you and she wanted you back. And it's all in the past, anyway. Right now you have two boys in the house and one friend on the back porch who need their dinner."

John laughed briefly. "Yeah, let's go."

--

Sam didn't know how long his eyes had been open before he realized he was awake. He glanced toward the window, but it was still completely dark outside, so he knew it wasn't time to be up yet. He looked toward his brother and found Dean curled up on his side, fast asleep.

Sam got out of bed quietly and padded down the hallway to the bathroom. He noticed Jim's door was still closed and he didn't hear any noise from downstairs. He didn't know what woke him up, but if there had been a noise, he was sure Dean would have heard it, too. He knew the house was protected and it didn't feel like anything was wrong. Still, he paused at the top of the stairs after leaving the bathroom.

After a moment of indecision, Sam walked downstairs. He saw Bobby asleep on the couch and continued through the room and down the hall. The door to the small room his dad was using was closed, but he could tell a light was on. He thought about it for a moment before knocking on the door.

"Come in."

Sam slowly pushed the door open, hoping he wouldn't see that his father was drinking.

"Dad?"

"Hey, Sammy," John said and set aside the book he'd been reading. "Why are you awake?"

"I don't know; I guess I had to go to the bathroom.

"Is everything okay?"

"I guess."

"You want to hang out in here for a little while?"

Sam nodded and rubbed his eyes as he moved toward the bed. John moved aside to make room for him and Sam slid under the covers.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, sir. And Dean is still sleeping. What were you reading?"

John picked up the paperback from the bedside table and handed it to his son.

"Louis L'Amour?" Sam asked as he turned the book over to read the back. "I didn't know you read his books."

"I haven't read one in a while. I found this one in the den."

Sam set it aside. "The pizza was good tonight."

"Yeah, it was. Who won the game you and Dean were playing?"

"He won mostly, but I won last. He's better at Tekken than I am. I'm better at racing games, though. You're awake late."

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep."

Sam smoothed the blanket over his lap and glanced around the room.

"What is it, Sammy?"

"Are you and Bobby still going after the demon?"

"I think it left town and there isn't an easy way to track it."

"Does that mean we're going to stay here for a while longer?"

"Yeah, I think so. Would you like that?"

"Sure," Sam said. He felt his father's arm go around his shoulders. Sam hesitated for a moment, then leaned against him. "I'd like to stay here for a while."

"What's wrong, Sammy? You're not acting like yourself."

"I know what you do is important, Dad. I know you help people and I know you're trying to find what killed Mom, but….I don't like it when you're gone so much and Dean worries. He takes good care of me, but I still miss you."

John held him closer. "I miss you guys, too. And I'm sorry I've been gone so much. That's what the last few weeks have been about; trying to make up for that a little bit. I'm sorry I've let you down, Sammy. I never meant to. But you're right. What I do is important. It's not more important than you or your brother, though. No matter what it seems like."

"Do you think you'll ever find what killed Mom?"

"I hope so, Sammy. I'm closer than I was before and I never know when I'll find out something else. Bobby and Pastor Jim help, too. Some day, some day soon I hope, this will all be over."

"And we can have a real home?"

"Yeah, Sammy."

Sam felt his eyelids getting heavy, but he didn't want to go back to his room. He slid down and pulled the covers up higher, dimly aware that his father had maneuvered so that he was almost lying down, too. Sam was asleep before the light was switched off.

Dean found them not long after and though he felt a pang of jealousy, he couldn't help but smile a little, too. He knew something big had happened while his dad was gone before. He had no idea what it was, but he agreed with Sam that it had something to do with their mom. But he also thought it had something to do with Sam, too.

He'd seen the way their dad watched him during dinner and even when he and Sam had gone to the game room, John hadn't left them alone for long. Of course their dad hadn't given up any information, and he probably never would. Dean accepted that he only told them what he thought was safe for them to know, but Sam was different. He seemed complacent for now, but Dean had a feeling that it wouldn't last forever.

But as Dean backed out of the room, he decided to just be happy with what he had.

The End


End file.
